


Better Stalker Than a Lover

by Wallwalker



Category: Valkyrie Profile: Lenneth
Genre: Bad Sex, Character Study, F/M, Pre-Canon, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-22
Updated: 2009-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-05 01:03:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wallwalker/pseuds/Wallwalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A short and rather silly bit I was inspired to write after browsing your Dear Yulegoat letter. Hope you like.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Better Stalker Than a Lover

**Author's Note:**

  * For [helarctos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/helarctos/gifts).



> A short and rather silly bit I was inspired to write after browsing your Dear Yulegoat letter. Hope you like.

Lezard Valeth was many things, but a great lover was not one of them. There was a reason that he'd been a virgin until the age of twenty-three, and that he had only lost it that early in life because someone else had been too proud or too stubborn (or, he liked to think, too attracted to him, albeit in secret) not to accept the forfeit after she had failed to keep her end of a dare.

Oh, Mysty... she'd looked exhausted after he'd been done with her, although she'd insisted afterwards that the slack look on her face had been boredom, not exhaustion. According to her, Lezard had all of the sexual prowess of a drunken slug. This, of course, had begged the question of how Mystina knew how well drunken slugs performed in bed. In retrospect, however, it might have been better for Lezard to keep that question to himself. He still winced whenever he thought of the hex she'd put on him; he hadn't been able to look at the color black without suffering from a splitting headache for _days._

Lovely woman, really. It wasn't that Lezard didn't respect her power. It was simply that she was far too dangerous to take seriously, because if he treated her with the caution and admiration that she deserved he'd never get anything else done.

She was mortal, anyway. Really, sleeping with her had been practice, or maybe preparation. At the time he'd thought that his love for the Goddess in his dreams had been romantic, that he'd actually wanted to seduce her and make her his. To make her into a human, to cage that might and that fire, to have it at his side whenever he wanted to set it free. He'd wanted that, once, a long time ago.

It hadn't been long before he knew better, and he supposed that he had Mysty and her boredom to thank for that. The problem had been that Lezard had been thinking too small. Why bother with such mundane concerns when his lady love could hold the key to the world? The two of them, merging as one in a way that humans could never understand, and giving him the power over all things. It was a very pleasant and very - dare he say it? - exciting thought, and one that he would keep to himself until he had the power to pursue it.


End file.
